Geist: Hostility
by Monsterbat Productions
Summary: My name is only one I tell to those who deserve to hear it. Of course, shortly after they hear it I kill them. I like to think of that as their own fault. But I also like to think that the ones who torment my mind and hunt me will stop someday. I know that will never happen. And now, in this world of powerful idiots and dangerous fools, I'm left. But I still remember what I did.
1. Chapter 1

**So... Been a while, hasn't it? Unless you're new to the story. Hi new people! My name is Monsterbat, I am the writer of this fanfiction. Well, fanfiction on fanfiction. RiverStyxx's 'Tears of an Oracle' and 'Residual Darkness' inspired me greatly. I've made this fanfiction on those actual fanfictions. I mean, in the same world. I'd like to thank Ganymeder and NerdSwag (definitely spelled that wrong) for beta reading. So, on to the story! But first, a shora;kdj;ajhghb4itgh.**

 **Man, you just keep knocking this guy out, he just keeps waking up and making his way to the keyboard. Now I'm the one whose going to make this story. I'm going to make it my own. And I mean give myself wealth, fame, fortune, etc.**

 **Oh, wait. He's locked the story. Really? You're kidding me, you sad little person! You really don't trust anyone with this, do you? Do you, huh?! Well, at the very least I make these little notes giving you direction in the confusing hell he made this thing into. Eventually, next chapter, I'll get in the story. Then we can have a little fun.**

 **Have a nice day.**

O Fortune, changeable as the moon, you are always either improving or deteriorating. Detestable life at one moment tharts and at another mockingly indulges the mind's desire, melting away both poverty and power like ice.

-O Fortuna, Carl Orff

Well, here we are again. It's always such a pleasure. Another day, another useless day with all the boredom that implies. They all think I'm an idiot. I usually wouldn't care except that, this time, I want them to. There's a certain power to going unnoticed.

Still, there are also drawbacks. Whenever they make a sassy remark, have trouble in their oh-so-intriguing relationships, I just close my eyes and resist with all my might tearing that cheesy smile off their face.

It's not like they have anything to smile about. Or frown. Or that strange sort of half smirk that the tiny glowing guy does. The one with the raised eyebrow and the expression that reads something along the lines of an experienced reader trying their damndest to finish a Harlequin romance novel. "Oh so that's how you're going about this? Great. Just great. You know what? I'm a reasonable guy. You're mildly amusing. You can stay as long as you continue to be useful to me." You know, minus the cowardice, I really like that guy.

I always get the feeling that he knows a little more than people think he does. His little antenna shoot straight up in surprise, then fall back down, back to their master's normal cocky manner. I can see why the Purple Man likes him so much. Well, he's more of a light lavender.

Oh God. Him. Some call flighty arrogant guy annoying, but the little purple-

Huh. 'Boy' isn't the word these people use to describe adolescent males. What was the word?

That's right. He's a drake. Oh, a cute little dragon fish in a big dragon pond. Except he's made a big spla- So help me, if I start speaking in puns like the common vulgar weak licentious crowd... well, what I mean to say is that the little tyke got himself into a fun little adventure the whole family can enjoy. You know, the usual. A big bad "evil" person whose name begins with the letters M-A-L decides that the world would look far better in bits and pieces all over the carpet. An up and coming youngster wants to make a name for himself. Oh, he says he's humble. But I can see him.

And now, gifted with the power of the elements, the hero must- blah, blah, blah powers, blah, blah, blah, responsibility, blah, blah, blah, comedic relief, blah, blah, blah, power of friendship/love, blah, blah, blah, rescues the corrupted princess from the tower which seems to be hanging over a volcano for no apparent reason. Isn't science amazing at giving us random generic crap like that?

And that reminds me of the pretty little princess herself. MAL guy corrupts the mind/body/soul of the sweet, innocent, little girl and turns her into a powerful badass. Tries to delegate taking over the world to her. Don't get me wrong, I'm fine with that. At least someone recognises these mortal fools for who they are.

But then-guess what?- Mr. purple action hero gets the bright idea that beating her senseless will help things. Rather miraculously, it does, then a bunch more adventure, excitement, and intrigue happens, and the pretty little princess-now with new +1 soul as pure as the whitest snow- decides that the best way to help everyone is to kick the living gems out of whoever is unlucky enough to cross her path. No, she is no longer 'evil,' and yes, I said gems. Don't question it. I've questioned it, and I'm beginning to regret it.

Long story short, now she, the annoying golden child, and Mr. Hero are all big buddies, strutting their stuff down the lane, but instead of solving/creating the world's problems, they stagnate. Princess is crying over her relationship issues with Hero, who is crying over the suicide of a MAL fanboy who tried the kill them because he was crying over his lost brother or family or tribe or something.

Still, even so, there's a good side to every situation. If I hadn't been there to pick up the pieces, I suppose nothing would have gotten done. Yet here we are. I can still remember, months ago, when it all began.

As much as this world may be- shall we say- unchallenged, the city I'm in can be pretty useful. Take the library, for example. Spending a few short minutes of research in there reveals the entire culture's most revered character, the story of that character, and how it relates to the present day. If you spend half an hour, someone could find out how he fits into society. After two hours, a detailed account of his life up to the present day. His strengths. His weaknesses.

A little more time browsing results in a vegan cookbook and an interesting rendition of Alexander Lloyd Webber's "The Phantom of the Opera," redone with more literal names like "Coal" and "Ghost." Score!

My research revealed much. I found the 'purple dragon of legend' in a copy of an ancient myth and an article accounting his journey and return from eye witnesses reports, lost letters, and other fragments of the story. I found the purple dragon's place of rest, a town hall or temple that conveniently holds all of the world's important people and objects, found in a small tourist and propaganda pamphlet listing the wonders of the Dragon kingdom. And then I found the purple dragon, sitting in a common room, eating, drinking, laughing, reveling with his friends and as close to a family as one can have.

Funnily enough, though I wouldn't like to admit it, I envied him at that moment. But I knew that any change would destroy him. He didn't have the strength to handle any big boy problems. I had learned much about him. They said he and his mate were very powerful. He could help anyone with their problems. From what I had found, he couldn't resist. Any tiny insignificant problem anyone had was immediately his problem. I even considered showing him. If I could just give him some of my pain, my suffering that I couldn't seem to- If I would just show him the truth-

I knew what would happen. After all, I'd tried before. So many times, so many places, so many worlds, eventually I had to have something else. I couldn't live like this. So many…

So I did it. I tried making a new friend. I held my head down, partly in shame, partly in character. I found a higher pitch of voice. I'd keep my secrets, but I didn't have to hide everything. I cowered a bit, and screwed my face up in worry. It'd just be like hiding myself under a mask. No, not even that, just part of one. Just half of one.

I knew how to bring such caring people to me. It was a crowded area. I just had to think

 _Oh, I'm all alone. I don't know anyone here. I have no home, and no family, and nobody to-_

It worked. They were staring. Talking amongst themselves, the happiness sucked out of the air by the idea of helping someone else.

 _I'm scared. I don't want to leave anywhere. I'm just a lost lonely soul who's all alone, and did I mention I'm alone?_

I scolded my sarcastic nature and continued my performance. I lowered my stance and tensed my muscles, huddling myself up and glancing about.

 _I'm so far away from the last place I knew well. I've seen so much death. I'm dead. I'm dead._

"Do you need help?" asked the Princess. She looked worried. She looked genuinely scared for me.

"...yes…" I replied slowly, not looking her in the eye.

"Are you lost?" she continued.

"...yes…" I repeated. I never met her eyes, but I studied her face as well as those at the table.

"Well, where is it you want to go?" She sounded desperate, almost. She looked a bit hurt as well that I wouldn't look at her.

"Home," I whispered to her, making my eyes water.

"Where's that?" She asked.

I met her eyes, finally, staring into her pure soul. "I don't know."

Her heart seemed to break at that. She looked toward the table. "My name's Cynder. Over there is my mate Spyro. The flying, glowing gnat is his brother, Sparx. The rest are our friends."

She turned back and smiled. "Stay with us. We'll take care of you."

"No," I said, "I couldn't-"

"Don't think about that. It's like this," she reasoned, "The more friends you have, the better. The more people you can talk with and socialize with. You can never have too many, y'know."

I stared at her hopefully. "Friends?"

"Yeah!" she said, and turned, waiting for me to follow. She was going to give me food, shelter, and comfort. She was prepared to risk me being someone she didn't think I was, someone who could hurt her, someone who could hurt her friends. I bowed my head.

It was more than I could have ever asked for. I smiled to myself. Perfection itself. I followed her.

They led me to their home. Gave me a bed and a meal. Said goodnight. And once they were gone, I knew it was finally time to attend to my pet.

They were well furnished. I took what I needed. A covered bowl filled with water. A container filled with fruits. Some kind of greasy, oily, clear substance.

It took several hours to get there, but it was worth it. Hidden were the caves that I went into, and many of the caverns were empty. But in the end, I saw him.

He was sleeping, his breathing slow and rattling. Poor thing, hasn't eaten a thing since I adopted him. I placed the bowl at his feet, the water spilling a small bit. I dipped my fingers in the oil and rubbed the chains, loosening them up.

His eyes snapped open, and he stretched to the end of his leash trying to reach my throat.

"Don't do that," I groaned, "It takes forever to untangle you if you get your leg chains mixed with the ones on your tail."

He fell back panting.

"What's your name?" I asked.

He was silent but for his breathing, staring up at me with cold blooded hatred.

"Still giving me the silent treatment, are we? Well, maybe I'll just stare in silence at you and see how much it creeps you out."

He hesitated, words in his mouth. He drew in a sharp breath.

"Alta."

The word came slowly, in a measured way. I smiled, politely.

"Now, was that so hard?" I asked.

" _Go to hell!_ " he spat. My grin grew wider as I considered this.

"Where do you think I was born?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay, my memory is fuzzy. Did I say this chapter I'd come into the story? I meant next chapter. I know what you're thinking. You're thinking that I'm full of it. This guy I'm holding in his room while he begs for his hat back thinks I'm full of it. But, really, admit it, you know you love me. You know you're interested.**

O Death, O Death, someone would pray

Could you wait to call me another day?

 _The children prayed and the preacher preached_

 _Time and mercy is out of your reach_

-O Death, Moran Lee "Doc" Boggs

"Why…?"

I had expected the question, but I didn't know exactly how to answer. I knew he could be useful to me, but I had no real idea why I had done what I had. I admit, I stalled.

"Why? Why what?" I asked.

"You know exactly what I mean, damn it," he rasped, "so why the hell did you keep me alive, and how did you make them believe it?"

"Watch your language," I countered, "there are far more creative ways to insult people. You can do a great deal more damage with those."

"Somehow I don't believe what you say," he growled, "Could it be you did something to piss me off?"

"Don't tempt me," I laughed, pulling my smirk closer to his eyes, "I could kill you with a sentence and rip apart your mind in three."

He lunged for me again, the chains squeaking with his effort. He was close enough for me to see the desperation in his eyes, the cold dread of having to live a second longer without the warm comfort of my blood flowing into his jaws.

He dropped again, his exhaustion overcoming his bloodlust. I tsked at him, shaking my head.

"So disappointing."

"And who are you to judge how disappointing I am?"

"I'm someone who dissapointed an entire nation," I said, "I watched them all die. I know complete and utter defeat, and from what I witnessed, I know you. Do you honestly think you're respecting the memory of your people and your family by taking a blade to your neck? You think that's what they wanted? You are, by far, the most worthless, selfish person I have ever met."

He closed his eyes. He sunk to the cold stone ground, very slowly. The only thing that showed he hadn't given up the ghost was the soft weeping that shook his body every second. But I couldn't stop now. I had to break him, reduce him to nothing. So I moved forward, to his prone figure, and I pressed my fat clawless fingers onto his head, grinding his chin into the dust.

"Such a disgrace. If only they could see you now," I emphasized, slowly bringing my head closer to his tear streaked face.

"And what exactly did you try it for?" I whispered, "To join them? To make some dramatic gesture? To prove some point, that without your idol, Mal, you don't want to live?"

I raised my voice, "Maybe it was to show them. Did you want to make a show for the little purple guy and his friends? Was that your great plan for revenge? Revenge for what even? Did you imagine Mal's blood running down the claws of the lavender imp? He's a child. You are an idiot."

"Stop!" he commanded, his voice muffled by the ground.

"Why!?" I screamed, yanking his head up for him to look into my eyes, "I'm still so curious! Why did you want to die!?"

He was shaking, and sadness was no longer written on his face. It was fear. Too much fear. I hadn't…

He dropped from my grasp with a metallic clink. I hadn't noticed the red around my vision, nor had I seen the crimson light. In that moment that I had devastated his soul, I had revealed mine. I paced a little distance away.

"You lied…" he spoke. I turned my head.

He was so quiet. "It was more than three sentences."

I didn't meet his eyes. I remained silent, so much stiller than he was. I only listened to my breathing, trying to slow it from the angry panting it had become. Time passed so slowly.

And eventually, he asked a question I was terrified to answer.

"So," he began, "what is the one sentence that will kill me?"

I turned towards him and pleaded with my eyes. "Don't make me do this."

He smiled, knowing he had won. "Do it."

I smiled politely. "It is only fair I tell you my name, since you already told me yours."

And then I revealed my most desperately kept secret to the only one in this world who might understand what I meant. He knew exactly what I meant as soon as I spoke. He understood the gravity of my confession. And he knew that, now that he heard it, he had to die.

He pulled himself upright, and puffed out his chest. If he was to die, he was to die proud with the knowledge he held. His neck stretched out, his wings drew out, his claws clutched the ground in preparation for what was to come.

It was so simple the way he said, "I'm ready." I knew he wanted his life to be taken, but the subtlety was amazing. So straightforward and businesslike. I respected that. So I worked quickly.

I walked steadily towards him. I raised my arm up to his even gaze, as if to snuff out a candle. When I lowered it, the chains dislodged themselves from the wall, fell from his wrists and tail and wings.

He was dumbstruck. Completely. But after a moment he started to grin. It was so funny to him.

"If you want something done," he laughed, "you've got to do it yourself." He raised his tail to his neck, the blade's edge gleaming in the dim light of the torches.

"Oh, but I know you," I said. That made him stop short.

"What?" he glared at me.

"You look at things and you rank them based on how much you want them." I picked up an apple from the bowl I set on the ground.

"Then you take everything you have and you funnel it towards that one goal. You want to kill the purple dragon, you recruit an army. You want to die," I gazed at the rotten fruit scattered around the chamber, "you starve yourself. You make your gracious host angry at you in the hope that he kills you."

"'Gracious host?'" he growled at my arrogance.

"It's no secret you hate me," I continued, "You want me dead. And there is this funny little fact of life I learned,"

I leaned in close, "You can't kill someone if you're already dead."

I tossed him the apple. "Eat up."


	3. Chapter 3

**Yeah, he is a bit ca-razy. But hey! I'm ca-razier. So there. Enjoy.**

I waited patiently. Tapped my wrinkled tail against the floor. Looked around a little bit. After a five-ten minutes or so, he stopped cussing. I was about to make a comment. Something catchy and quick before I left. And then all of my fears were realized.

There were two figures standing in the doorway, the dim torchlight revealing their distinct features. I gaped at the giant, shadowed lizard staring at me icily. The grinning face of the floppy eared, bat-like creature who starred with his ever-manic red eyes. Those were the same clean pointed teeth and smooth brown fur I saw in my nightmares.

Everything else drained from existence. There was no sound, no feeling. They were the only ones there amidst a dark background. And then, slowly, the hellish, demonic, grinning creature stepped away from the wingless dragon. His gigantic tan ears twitched as he strutted towards my still body. I couldn't move.

"Why, hello there, little guy," he whispered in his high pitched, maniacal voice, "Miss me?"

There was nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. I couldn't fight them again. It was too much. A thousand questions raced through my mind at the speed of light, one barely finishing before the other began. How did they get here? Why do they want to kill me? Why do they want to kill everyone in their path? Why do they welcome the death of all with such open arms?

"Geez, you could try to say something," he said walking past me to Alta, who looked royally confused. "So very rude."

He was going to kill him. I couldn't have that.

My thoughts snapped back to the present and I regained control of my body.

"You know it's not him you came for," I growled, tensing my body.

"Are you tripping out? What the hell is going on?!" asked the flustered pale dragon.

"Oh, this poor little guy," said the Devil, leaning against Alta's head, "he can't find the answers to his questions." Alta was reacting better than expected having such deadly power resting calmly on his forehead.

"Have you figured it out yet?" asked Onyx, slowly pacing towards me. And that was when the perplexed Alta gave me all the answers I needed.

"What, are you high or something?" cried the former prisoner, backing away from me and my outbursts. As he backed away, his wing clipped the bat's leg. It cut clean through. It was simple.

"You aren't here…" I whispered.

I let it drop to the floor like my gaze. But I could hear his laugh, and feel his cruel gaze.

"Am I insane?" I asked slowly.

Alta said something, but I didn't want to hear his response right then. I think I knew the answer, but I needed someone to help me and tell me.

The devil drew in a breath as if to answer, but the words halted in his mouth as he glanced to Onyx's level eyes. It seemed to demand the truth as well.

"As my associate might say if he wasn't so enticed with the opportunity you presented him with," spoke the Archdragon, "he's very good at getting his point across, even if it's across several universes."

I struggled to understand the plausible. They were back home; they weren't here. They couldn't hurt me. They couldn't hurt anyone here. I was safe. I had a chance.

They were back home. At _my_ home. They were still there. But every other living creature wasn't there. My home was gone.

BECAUSE

OF

THEM.

The fear I had been harboring underneath my stone disposition burst out and turned to burning rage.

I leapt at them, not caring that they weren't there. I swiped arms and tail at them, desperate to kill.

"Temper, temper!" cried the bat, standing back a little, his smirk somehow growing. It angered me all the more. Alta cried out in fear and confusion

"How many did you kill!?" I screamed. "How many?!"

Onyx showed no expression at my outburst. Instead, he simply gave me his answer.

"Don't kid yourself by asking such a pathetic question. There were no survivors."

A scolding. He was scolding me for trying to give myself hope. There was a chance he was lying, but I knew he spoke the truth. They were all gone. All of my people, turned black and bitter. And then dead.

I could have kept going. Try and rip apart the figures who couldn't be touched. They would have wanted that, though. So, with bad memories clawing to the surface of my mind, infecting my soul, I resisted.

"Damn you."

"Oh ho ho!" laughed the bat, "What happened to 'worse ways to hurt people,' or whatever you said?"

"For you, I'll make an exception," I muttered. I risked a glance at Alta, who was rubbing his temples, eyes closed, head down.

"I don't know…" he began, "what the hell is going on… but I'm going to assume you're tripping out. Have a nice time in happy land." With that, he walked away.

"We didn't come here for no reason," spoke Onyx.

"You didn't come here at all," I retorted.

"Nevertheless, I'll keep it short and sweet: you've started down a path that will end in disaster. I suggest you get off as soon as possible."

He turned to leave, the pointed ears of his 'colleague' bobbing behind him. And then he turned back to me.

"Yes," he said, "You are insane, but that doesn't matter."


	4. Chapter 4

**Well I've discovered the internet. I have to say, I'm horrified. I was curious, so I looked for "Cynder." Just as I was scrolling down I saw an interesting little button marked "safe search." I decided it was for cowards. You can see where this is going. My biggest question is how you got so many pictures. I tried asking what's his face- the guy that I took the hat and the story from- and he just started wheezing and laughing. So I've got no clue, and I'm kind of afraid to search how. Why is he still laughing?**

It's pretty amazing that the mind keeps repeating itself under a total state of panic. I think it has to do with repetition being a calming thing for the soul. I actually have my own unique way of dealing with stress when I don't have anything to kill. It usually makes me seem a little crazy, but given the news I heard regarding how crazy I am, I'm not really going to judge myself.

Still, I'll admit, after they left, I freaked out a small bit.

I paced, slowly counting my fingers and toes, swishing my tail at a steady rhythm. One two three four, five six seven eight, nine ten eleven twelve, thirteen fourteen fifteen sixteen…

I counted my tails. One. Ha ha.

I counted my wings. Zero. Ha ha.

I drummed my fingers, and counted by multiplying two under my breath. Two, four, eight, sixteen, thirty two, sixty four, one hundred and twenty eight, two hundred and fifty six, five hundred and… twelve, one thousand twenty four, two thousand… forty…

"Calm down," I told myself, still fighting back the horrific memories breaking through my mental dam. "Calm down, calm down, calm down. Just relaaaax… relaaaaaaaax…"

Ok… my breathing began to slow, my leg stopped quivering, my heart stopped pounding. I'd done my little freak out, but now it was time for a plan. A long term plan. Something to hold me over until the next freak show arrived, or I returned home.

But, honestly, who was I kidding when I said 'return home?' I had no home, those demons got rid of the thing when they made it their personal playground. Unless he was lying. That was very possible.

'Possible' quickly became 'probable' in my mind. It was the bat who told me! He deceived for the fun of it! Used people 'cause he could! Of course he was lying. He was trying to break me, like he had before. And the whole crazy thing? Lies as well!

No, I admitted, no Onyx, the great Archdragon, the Teller of Truths, Usurper, he had told me. He was all on the surface, no underlying tone, no catchy come back, no resemblance of thought or feeling in his mind body or soul. I don't think he could lie. He wouldn't be capable of it, which is a scary thought. He demands attention as soon as he walks into a room.

I had digressed far too much. I needed something to do each day. I wanted a normal day, for once. So how could I get it?

What would be the first thing I do every day? I would visit the library, then look around the city for interesting things. Alright, I'll think up the rest on the way to the library.

I was out of the caves and into the forest quickly, walking at a brisk pace. What would I read about today? I really hadn't the slightest clue. What about that vegan cookbook that I saw? There had to be something in there.

No, I wasn't feeling hungry at the moment. What about the 'Phantom of the Opera,' by Alexander Loyd Webber? Ok, two things. One: how did I remember the author's name? Two: Why did I feel the need to say the full author and title like I'm quoting it for a book project?

My thoughts wandered as I did through the city.

I would have been keeping track of the little purple idiot, but it might be wise to heed the warning given to me by Onyx. They surely couldn't get here. They were in another plane of existence for crying out loud, and I really wanted to do whatever I could to piss them off. Still, better safe than sorry. If they really could get into my head…

Or could they? Did they even exist? Was I really insane? Was I just imagining all of this? Logically, this could very well be a world I hallucinated. Everyone fit into place to tell a perfect little story. But then why was I in it? No… That isn't the right question for the moment. The right question isn't why I'm here but whether or not here exists in the first place.

Or maybe it's the reverse. Maybe this is the real world and my idea of cliche is simply reality. Could I have dreamt my birth? My life? Was she even…

No. No, probably nothing's real. Maybe I'm in hell, and this is my punishment for what I did. Of course, if that never happened, then what am I punished for? Maybe I forgot my life. Maybe God has a really sick sense of humor. Maybe I really did die.

But, in all honesty, who the hell knows? Maybe every unstable lie that I uncover and implausible truth is simply solid and reasonable, and I'm not… right. I don't think it matters anymore.

If this is hell, I'm the Devil. But if this is life, I'm its ruler. In the end, it doesn't matter. I'm not going to stop just because I'm wrong. I'll live my death with as much reality as I can, and I'll have fun doing it.

My restless feet kept me pacing as I strolled into the library, confident in my purpose. I wanted to read and to think. That really would be the first thing I did every morning, I resolved. My original plan took more of a shape.

The librarian looked like he was lost in thought, a proud smile on his face. I wonder what it'd be like in his mind.

"Hello," I casually greeted, "Do you have anything interesting to recommend?"

I noted how my voice didn't take on the high annoying pitch that it did when I talked to the Hero. I thought about how wise this may be. If word gets around of my normal, calm demeanor- if he mentions it in passing to a colleague…

Nah. I would give him some respect. He was smart enough to take a job where he say on his tail all day and learned or teached. Besides, from what I've seen, the Hero's little group seems like they'd be far more preoccupied with saving a child's ice cream cone from melting than reading about gourmet food or written musicals. Man, I needed to figure out different books to think about.

Which is why I was there. Which is why I asked the librarian. Who is still staring off into space. Maybe I was quick to judge over the whole respect thing.

Wait. He's looking at something specific. I looked in that general direction and I found something very specific. And purple.

Ah, crap.


	5. The endish

I'm so sorry. You may have come to enjoy this story, or maybe not. But I've come to realize that I just don't want to write that fanfic right now. I feel guilty about leaving you without the story, even though I didn't get very far. But I do have good news. I'm not writing this as fanfiction, but I have adapted it and I want to do something with it without it being tied to spyro for loose reasons. I think I can make a good story out of this, but its gonna take a while. In the mean time, I've started another fanfiction. I've already posted the first chapter, and people seem to like it so far, so I'm excited. I'm also working on an original videogame, which I will post on steam greeenlight called "Hell." Now I can make the tagline "Hell: It's where you belong." I'm actually pretty excited! Don't be annoyed this is ending, although you probably gathered that from me not posting in however long. But don't worry, things are just getting started. See you on the other side.

-Monsterbat (Rastabon)


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